


Harbor

by Breezy



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 16:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3256679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breezy/pseuds/Breezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nina is adrift, Inko is her anchor. When Inko is gone, Nina finds her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harbor

Nina Klein is gone. Some days she’s adrift, absent without leaving, others she’s capsized in saline waves. She’s oceans away in a time and place Inko doesn’t know. Only touch reels her in. Sound is so unreliable, but Inko’s hand on her shoulder is a welcomed anchor. Touch after touch Inko builds a confidence, her hands steady and certain in their comfort. 

It’s Thursday and Inko ropes her into sorting student council papers when Nina makes the mistake of asking how long she’s been staring at a faded orange pamphlet. She’s sure she has only been gone a few moments, but the unmuted disquiet in Inko’s eyes tell her it’s been so much longer. 

Inko sits closer and closer to her with each passing day and Nina pretends she doesn’t notice that now their knees knock together softly when they study. 

“You smell nice,” Nina says one day, off-handedly, when they’re analyzing mathematical applications to tactical maneuvers. 

Inko doesn’t know what to say except, “You too.”

/// 

The air feels wrong. It’s acidic and choking, poisoning Nina’s lungs with every breath she tries not to take. She’s floating and drowning all at once. She’s back in her home country, surrounded by plumes of black smoke, tar-filled lungs burning as she screams. Her heart pounds brutally against its neighboring lung and she can’t breathe. She feels too light now, floating away into a crimson sky. 

Her blonde hair is loose and haphazardly strewn about the pillows beneath her. She focuses on the feel of Inko’s middle school gym shorts -- stolen from the unsuspecting student council member’s laundry last month -- against the inside of her thighs and the way her cardigan sleeves envelop her hands. The physical presence of the warm cotton and wooden buttons lull the waves, but the caustic chattering in her chest still buzzes in the foreground.

“Nina.” Inko’s voice shatters the white noise. “Nina, can you hear me?” she asks, soft and sad. Inko is standing over Nina’s bed in the dark room, artificial light seeping in from the open doorway.

Nina nods slowly, squinting up at the silhouette of Inko in the school-issued gym clothes she wears to bed. “Close the door, please.”

Inko nods, seemingly unsure, but obeys. Nina gets off the bed after she hears Inko click the door shut, walking over to her in the dim room.

“Do you want me to turn the light on? It’s dark . . .” Inko trails off when she feels Nina wrap her arms slowly around Inko’s waist.

“Sure,” Nina breathes against Inko’s neck. “Let’s turn a light on.” But she makes no move to do so and, instead, her hands tighten around the back of her classmate’s shirt. Nina needs more and flushes her body close against Inko’s.

Nina’s small breasts press up against Inko’s ribcage and Nina is immediately grateful the room is too dark for Inko to see her blush dusted cheeks. Silent exchanges between the two are so commonplace; Nina’s not sure when it changed -- just that it did and now her heart leaps faster in her chest every time Inko’s hand finds hers.

“You’re okay,” Inko says and returns the embrace. She strokes down the back of Nina’s cardigan, the fabric soft and well-loved. “I’ve got you, we’re okay,” she whispers into blonde curls.

A small choking sound escapes Nina’s lips. Her wet tears follow and she sobs against the red collar of Inko’s gym shirt. “I’m sorry,” she hiccups. “Just stay, Inko, please stay.” She murmurs a few stray words in a language Inko doesn’t understand, but they sound apologetic and worn.

“I’m here,” she promises, nuzzling Nina’s head and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. And Nina sighs, easy and comfortable, into the affections. “You’re with me, we’ll always be alright together.” They stand there listening to each other’s breathing for long seconds that stretch into minutes. Nina’s heart slows from skittering flames to match Inko’s steady drums. Nina turns her head to rest on Inko’s shoulder and Inko tilts her head to see her face.

Nina’s voice is still sticky with tears when she speaks, “Inko.”

“Hmm?” 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s not your fault, it’s okay.” Inko lifts a hand to brush back the stray hairs sticking to Nina’s tear-stained cheeks.

Nina shakes her head fondly. “I’m sorry I stole your gym shorts.”

“You took my gym shorts? Why?” 

Nina laughs, humorless and strained. “They’re pretty, and you’ve grown out of them anyway.”

“I’m not that much taller than you,” Inko protests. “They’re probably really short on you.”

“They are,” Nina confirms. “That’s why I only wear them to bed.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Nina takes the other’s wrist and directs it downward. Inko lets her, watching. She brings Inko’s hand to rest on her hip before speaking again. “I’m wearing them right now.”

Inko absently strokes Nina’s hipbone through the fabric of the gym shorts, feeling the warm skin. “These do feel like my--um, the shorts.” She slides her hand down Nina’s thigh until she reaches the hem, then moves her hand back up to the waistband. “Why?”.

“I told you, they’re cute.”

“I mean, why mine? Why are you letting me . . .” Inko doesn’t finish her sentence when Nina’s complacent lips shyly press to the side of her neck.

“I like cute things,” Nina says as though changing the subject. Silence reigns for a few fleeting seconds before Nina looks up directly at Inko, eyes sparkling in the dim room. “Like you.”

“You don’t mean that in a friend way,” Inko wishes she sounded more poised and certain, but it feels like she’s walking on coals.

Nina nods slowly. Inko, elated, leans forward to press a close-mouthed kiss to her forehead. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” She smiles, and nods again. “A lot.”

Inko can’t help but ask, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” Nina’s downy sweet laugh is cut short by Inko’s lips. They kiss for long moments that Nina files away for future reference. 

Inko’s eyes are dark, the pinks of her irises swimming. “Again?” she asks, the reality of it not seeping in quite yet.

“Sure, but um, could we get a blanket?” Nina nods towards the bed. “My legs are cold.”

“I told you those are too short for you.” Inko grins.

“Hush, you like it,” Nina replies, taking Inko’s hand and walking towards her western style bed. 

Inko blushes and follows.

They settle into the bed facing each other, wrapped up in Nina’s floral duvet and dusty rose afghan. Inko initiates another kiss, slow and easy. Their lips grow more pliable with each passing moment and everything feels too warm. “I guess we need to stop to breathe every once in a while,” Inko says,  face flushed. 

“Probably,” Nina concurs through a yawn. 

“We have class tomorrow morning,” Inko remembers.

“Mm.” Nina leans in again and touches her nose to Inko’s. “Sleep here. We can go together.”

“Okay,” Inko agrees easily, and Nina is sailing.

“If I do anything, just hold me.”

“Okay.” Another kiss.

The night is quiet and smooth, made of soft waves that make Nina feel unsinkable. She thinks she sleeps better with a warm body by her side, the unbroken beat of Inko’s heart measuring the hours. Maybe, Nina thinks, everyday could be like this, reality provided by Inko’s hands and lips. 

/// 

The morning is littered with exchanged smiles and between-class kisses, and when Inko holds Nina’s hand on the way to the bus, no one says anything. And if Inko is a little closer to Nina than before no one notices.

/// 

When Nina reads the evacuation list she stumbles. She waits to find AMIFUMI INKO printed in crisp ink, but it isn’t there. _She isn’t there_. She’d been doing student council work, Nina knew. Inko had been there when the ethereal Vers princess touched Terran soil and burned. 

Nina makes it to the bathrooms before emptying her makeshift breakfast. Shivers wrack her body and she doesn’t know if she’s burned or drowning in an icy sea. Nina rinses out her mouth and stares at her reflection, smiling at herself in hopes of triggering some sort of neuronal signal that will tell her body that everything’s alright. 

Inko isn’t here and though Nina always knew that would happen one day it was always going to be _one day far away_. Not right now, when Nina needs Inko’s touch and Inko needs Nina’s lips. She can’t speak with Calm about the good things from ages ago because he’s gone too.  
Nina lifts up her steam-pressed skirt to look at the nylon red gym shorts she always wears underneath. The color is faded but Nina thinks it’s the brightest thing in the room. She washes her face -- hygiene is key to beauty -- and practices breathing. 

When Nina finds Lieutenant Marito that night, sitting alone with his flask sitting on the table in front of him, she almost regrets refusing a sip. And when Nina says she’ll go on the rescue team, authorized or otherwise, Marito only nods.

/// 

The mission goes by in waves of blaring white noise, and Nina silently listens the quips between Kisaki and Yutaro and wonders if they’re like her and Inko. When she hears the signal rounds burst in the sky, she almost doesn’t believe them, but they’re coming from the school. _Their school_. When Kisaki confirms their purpose, she confirms the origin and she slips into a focus she hasn’t had since before she left home.

/// 

Nina finds purpose at the helm, accepting Captain Magbaredge’s orders. The real world application is flustering, but being able to act instead of wait is what she needs. 

It feels like years, but when Inko’s arms wrap around her, she is here again, and the tears in Inko’s eyes match her own. She reunites with her other friends in a similar manner, but can’t seem to let go of Inko’s hand. Okisuke’s death is a bitter burden, and a cold, hollow part of her heart is glad it was him when it could have been Inko.

That night Inko doesn’t let her go and Nina’s grateful for the warm press of her body. “I like you,” Nina says, and Inko kisses behind her ear.

“I know,” Inko hums. “I like you, too, remember?”

Nina laughs for what feels like the first time. “Things aren’t going to be the same anymore.”

Inko stops stroking down Nina’s side, her hand resting on the soft skin of her hip. “Yeah,” she sighs. 

“You won’t always be here.”

“Neither will you.” Inko kisses her and Nina relaxes into it. “But we’re here right now.”

Nina nods. “I was scared.”

“I was too.”

“You’re never getting these shorts back,” Nina says because she doesn’t want to think about that anymore.

Inko smiles. “I thought as much.”

Nina may drown offshore in the stormy future days, but for now she is warm in a bed with Inko. As she closes her eyes she can only feel their legs intertwining and the synchronized beating of their hearts. And when they fall asleep Nina feels like she’s reached the shore, white sands and seashells that are only echoes of her past.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


End file.
